12. Wind gust, Canoe, Chains, Boomerang, Chopsticks, Dog bone, Wheelchair, Plunger, Cow, Fist, Gravestone

"Did I just give a hot guy my number?" Oliver asked Rusty, still staring at the cafe's door.

"Yup," Rusty said.

"And he was actually into me?"

Rusty sounded entirely confused as he said, "Against all logic and reason, yes."

Turning to the Pyclon, Oliver scowled. "Ouch! That's a little harsh, don't you think?"

A bushy, dark pink brow arched. "Is it though?"

Replaying the entire scene in his mind, Oliver winced, then nodded. "Fair enough."

"You pulled it off in the end, though. That has to count for something." Rusty slapped Oliver on the shoulder. "Plus, he looked at you like he wanted to eat you. Which, you know, gross. But good for you."

Oliver laughed, and Rusty smirked.

When Gem returned from his break, he pestered Oliver every ten minutes, asking if Liel had texted him yet. It should have irritated him, but since he was compulsively checking his phone every five minutes wondering the same thing, he couldn't actually be annoyed. It wasn't until Oliver was getting ready to clock out that he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

He pulled it out with so much enthusiasm he nearly dropped the damn thing, but he managed to keep his grip and unlock the screen. He'd already added Liel's number to his contacts, and his heart tripped over itself when he opened his messages and read the name.

"It's happening," Gem whispered right next to Oliver's ear, making him jump.

"Why are you standing so close to me?" he demanded.

Gem rolled all eight eyes. "I'm so sorry for being interested in your life. Plus, I practically made this happen. Sue me for wanting to witness the fruits of my labor."

"You did not make this happen."

Gem huffed. "Ugh, I most certainly did! I was your wingman, and look what happened. You're welcome."

"This happened despite your involvement," Oliver said, and Gem's jaw dropped comically.

"I have never been more offended in my life," Gem sniffed haughtily. "See if I ever help you get laid again."

"I haven't gotten laid," Oliver said, trying not to sound disappointed.

"Yet," Gem added. "That Gymnot is totally down to bone."

Oliver grimaced. "Bone?"

"Gross," Rusty muttered.

"Don't be such prudes," Gem dismissed with a wave of one hand as another pointed at Oliver's phone. "Open his text! Maybe it's a dick pic."

Oliver pressed his phone against his chest. "I'm not showing you if it is."

Gem pouted. "Selfish."

"It's my dick pic, not yours," Oliver said.

"Sharing is caring," Gem countered.

"It's probably not a dick pic," Rusty said, sounding exhausted by them both. "Just open the damn text."

Checking the time, Oliver eyed Rusty. "Didn't you clock out already?"

Rusty shrugged. "Yeah. So what?"

"See?" Gem crossed all six of his arms over his torso. "I'm not the only nosy one. Rusty wants to know too."

"I don't care," Rusty said.

"Then why don't you run along and catch your train?" Gem challenged.

Rusty's pale eyes darted between them, hands fiddling with the straps of his knapsack. Oliver cocked his head. Gem smiled triumphantly. Rusty huffed in irritation.

"Fine, I kind of care," he admitted grudgingly. "What did he say?"

With shaky fingers, Oliver clicked on Liel's name, then immediately hid the screen against his thigh with a yelp. "It's a picture!"

"Ah, how big's his dick?" Gem grabbed at Oliver's phone.

"No!" Oliver ducked and weaved, but there were so many arms. "It's my dick pic! Not yours."

"Is it pre- or post- nut?" Gem demanded.

"We need boundaries!" Oliver cried as two of Gem's arms wrapped around his waist to hold him still.

"Boundaries are stupid," Gem growled as he bent Oliver backward at a precarious angle, two more hands coming around to support Oliver's weight as his top arms continued to reach for Oliver's phone. "Especially when it comes to dick pics!"

Holding his phone as far behind his head as he could, Oliver struggled to free himself. "I feel like dick pics are the perfect reason to set boundaries." His phone was plucked from his grasp, and Oliver gaped at Rusty as he casually looked down at the screen. " Et tu, Brute? "

Rusty cursed in his demonic language before turning the phone around. "It's not even a dick pic."

"Oh." Gem—who was still holding Oliver aloft like he was dipping him—straightened, releasing Oliver in a rush. With a shrill cry, Oliver dropped to the floor. "Oops. Sorry, Ollie."

Rubbing his tailbone, Oliver gingerly climbed to his feet and glared, first at Gem, then at Rusty. "Give me that," he snarled as he snatched his phone out of Rusty's hand.

Rusty was right; it wasn't a dick pic.

It was a picture of a yellow hand holding The Passing Through Cafe to-go cup as it rested on top of a dark wood desk. There was part of a black computer screen in one corner, and Oliver could make out Liel's crossed legs at the bottom. The background was a wall made of glass, and beyond, unfamiliar skyscrapers.

"He wasn't lying," Gem said as he inspected the photo over Oliver's shoulder. "He works in Greed. I recognize the buildings. On one hand, fuck Greed; they're all assholes. On the other, he probably has money. So, like, dig that gold, bitch."

"He didn't seem like an asshole," Oliver said. "And he said he's from Gluttony, not Greed. Also, I don't care about money."

"Oh, fancy-pants McGee over here," Gem mocked.

"I just mean—"

"Shush, he's typing," Rusty said.

The three fell silent as the chat bubbles appeared. Then disappeared. Then appeared again.

Thanks for the coffee. It was the perfect pick-me-up.

"Thanks for the coffee?" Gem sneered.

"That's kinda anticlimactic," Rusty agreed.

Oliver started typing out, "You're welcome," but Gem circled a hand around his wrist.

"No, don't say that."

"What? Why?"

"Because that's boring, and does nothing to further the conversation." Gem sighed forlornly and rubbed at the skin between his largest eyes. "The labor I do for those less fortunate."

Shaking off Gem's hold, Oliver erased the letters he'd managed to type and chewed on the inside of his cheek.

"He could say it was his pleasure? That's flirty, right?" Rusty suggested.

Gem looked personally offended. "No, it's not. He should…" Tucking a fist under his chin, he blew several raspberries, then his eyes brightened. "Okay, here's what you do. Send: wind gust, canoe, chains, boomerang, chopsticks , boomerang again—'cause it comes right back—dog bone, wheelchair, plunger… cow, fist, gravestone. In that order."

"What does that even mean?" Oliver asked, not sure if he wanted to know.

Gem's responding grin was chilling. "Oh, he'll know what it means."

Horrified, Oliver shook his head. "I'm not sending that."

"Good call," Rusty said. "You could ask him how his day's been?"

"You could ask him how he wants his night to go," Gem purred.

"You know what? I'm gonna do this myself," Oliver said as he stared down at his phone. It had already been too long, and he didn't want Liel to think he was ghosting him.

After a moment of deliberation, he typed out a text and sent it.

Glad I could help, though I don't think one coffee is enough to make up for all your pain and suffering. From where I stand, I owe you another drink.

"Oh, that's good." Gem nodded approvingly. "Flirtatious, but not too aggressive. And it opens the door for a meet-up. Good job, Ollie."

"I'm not entirely inept at social interaction," Oliver muttered.

"You shouted, ‘I have narcolepsy,' at him," Rusty said dryly. "Do you blame us for doubting you?"

Oliver hunched his shoulders. "Shut up. He's texting back."

"Um, excuse me?" a customer said from the other side of the bakery case.

"We'll be with you in a minute," Gem said without looking away from Oliver's phone.

"Maybe you should—" Rusty started.

"Shut up," Oliver said as Liel's text popped onto his screen.

My pain and suffering does require more reparation. Drinks this Thursday?

Gem squealed and shook Oliver by the shoulders. "Your weird flirting is working!"

"I just need a refill," the customer said.

"And I said that I'll be with you in a minute," Gem said snippily, widening his eyes significantly at Oliver. "Rude much?"

"It's kind of your job," Oliver said, and Gem scowled in betrayal.

"Fine, then!" He spun on his heels and stomped over to the customer. "Give me your glass. I'll get you some more water."

"It was a smoothie, actually."

"Actually, I don't have time to make you a smoothie. There are more important things happening right now, Brenda! You're getting water."

"Why does anyone even come here?" Oliver wondered aloud as he watched Gem grumpily fill the customer's smoothie cup with water.

Rusty snorted. "We're literally the only option, remember?"

"Huh, fair enough."

When Gem returned, Oliver was typing up a response.

I can do Thursday. You pick the place. I'll buy the first round. Deal?

That deal strongly leans in my favor. So, of course, I approve.

Sounds like a plan then.

Would I be coming on too strong if I called you this evening? I like to know more about the people I… enter into business with.

" Enter in? Oh, Ollie, if you don't fuck him, I will," Gem said, fanning himself.

Oliver scowled. "My dibs are so clearly implied at this point."

"Definitely, and I honor the code." Gem pressed a hand to his chest. "I'm just saying. Don't fumble this."

"Your support means the world," Oliver said sarcastically as he typed out a response and sent it.

Doing research is an important part of your job. Gotta be prepared, right?

I am always prepared.

Then I can't say no, can I?

You can always say no. I don't want to take anything you're not willing to give me.

"Not that I'm challenging your dibs," Rusty said, "but Gem has a point. He's a smooth talker."

"Shh, I'm trying to flirt right now," Oliver snapped.

Gem rubbed Oliver's back. "Honestly, you're doing well. The in-person flirting? Maybe not your strong suit. But your text-game is on point, babes."

"Yeah, the weird negotiation-legal-shtick seems to be working for him," Rusty agreed.

"Thanks? But I need to concentrate, so shush!" Oliver exhaled and rolled his head to crack his neck before he started to type.

I'll amend my previous statement for the record. I don't want to say no.

Then say yes.

Yes.

Letting me win so easily? I like your negotiation strategy.

Like I said, I'm not that competitive.

Then I think we're going to get along just fine.

I look forward to your call.

I'll do my best not to disappoint.

As one, they let out a collective breath as Oliver lowered his phone and locked the screen.

"You're so having phone sex later," Gem declared.

"We are not going to have phone sex," Oliver denied.

"I think you might have phone sex," Rusty said.

Oliver paled. "I've never had phone sex! What if I'm really bad at it?"

"Want me to give you pointers?" Gem offered.

"If it has anything to do with boomerangs, plungers, or cows, I don't want to know," Rusty said, hiking his knapsack higher on his shoulder. "I'm officially out. Good luck, Oliver."

"Thanks," Oliver said miserably as Rusty disappeared through the kitchen doors.

In a rare show of earnestness, Gem placed his middle hands on Oliver's shoulders and cupped his face with his top set. "Don't psyche yourself out. It's gonna be fine. He probably isn't calling for phone sex, so don't even worry about it."

"You don't think he wants to have phone sex with me?" Oliver whined, and several of Gem's eyes twitched.

"Okay, you're giving me whiplash. Listen, I think he likes you, and given how your previous encounters have gone, I don't think it's literally possible for you to fuck this up."

"That is both depressing and uplifting," Oliver said.

Gem grinned. "That's my sweet spot."

"Thanks, Gem." Oliver hugged him, and he oomphed in surprise. Then Oliver was enveloped in six, fuzzy arms and squashed against a chest that smelled like coffee and cinnamon.

"You're most welcome," Gem said into Oliver's scalp. "But if you do have phone sex"—yanking Oliver's head up, Gem stared deep into his eyes with all eight of his—"you better tell me everything."